


Took an Oath by the Blood of My Hand

by KaenNoMai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Gen, Mark of Cain, Post-Mark of Cain, Protective Sam Winchester, Season/Series 11, Tattoos, there is no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaenNoMai/pseuds/KaenNoMai
Summary: It happened again.He killed innocents.He had to make sure it doesn't happen again.He needed a reminder.





	Took an Oath by the Blood of My Hand

Dean walked through the door of the bunker, arm throbbing.

He wanted a beer and to go straight to bed, but Dean just knew that Sam’d be up waiting for him like he usually did when Dean stormed off after a bad hunt. 

The phantom feeling of blood dripping from his hands sent a shiver through his spine. Even though he  _ knew _ he washed his hands clean of the ruby liquid, he couldn’t help but quickly glance at his hands, only slightly pink due to the many times he’d scrubbed them that day.

Sure enough, though, as soon as Dean got down the stairs into the bunker, Sam was there, frown number thirteen on his face. 

The whole  _ I’m Worried For You _ and  _ I Wish You’d Let Me Help _ one. 

Dean brushed off Sam’s words, not really registering what he was saying, and heading straight for the section of the fridge that he knew housed the beer. 

Dean sighed, shoulders slumping as Sam came around and bodily stopped Dean from reaching his destination.

“Dude, can we not do this tonight? I’m tired,” Dean said, wearily eyeing his little brother.

“You’ve had enough to drink tonight, Dean,” Sam said, not moving.

“Bold of you to assume I’ve had something to drink,” Dean muttered under his breath, before admitting defeat and walking away from the fridge, no drink in hand.

He could feel Sam’s gaze on his back as he walked away, no doubt confused at Dean’s easy acquiescence. 

Still, Dean walked away, dead tired and far more defeated than he’d like to admit. 

And still, Sam allowed Dean to walk away.

*

Dean’s eyes snapped open, disoriented. He could still hear the cries of the newly turned werewolves all over again, echoing in his mind and never leaving. 

He exhaled slowly. 

He rolled over looking at the clock. It had been twelve hours – it was time. 

He made his way to the bathroom, stripping his shirts off as he went. He made it to the bathroom, and resolutely looked everywhere but his reflection and his right forearm. 

But Dean forced himself to remember the couple that had just been bitten by the werewolf. The innocents that couldn’t be saved. The way that Sam looked at them, mind clearly remembering those months after Stanford, after Jess, back with Madison.

So when Sam had faced Dean, trying – and failing – to steel himself and tell Dean that he could do this, Dean had knocked him out.

Dean would not –  _ could not _ – let his little brother shoulder the deaths of these innocents. 

So Dean forced himself to remember how he stepped over Sam, grabbed his gun, and fired two shots into the heads of two people. 

Two innocents. 

With those thoughts in mind, Dean glanced down at his forearm, wrapped in plastic.

_ He would not forget again. _

He steeled himself, and began unwrapping his arm, trying not to look at it, and knowing that he  _ had _ to remember at the same time.

Once his arm was unwrapped, Dean swallowed down the nausea and very gently began to clean the new tattoo. 

Done cleaning, he put the lotion on top, the same kind he and Sam used when they got their anti-possession ones done on their chests. 

Finished, Dean tried not to hurry to put his layers back on, sighing in relief once he could no longer see it. He hoped that as the tattoo healed, so would he learn to accept and remember the reminder.

He rubbed his head roughly, not really noticing the slight twinge of pain in his forearm at the motion.

He needed a drink. 

*

Of course, Sam didn’t find out until almost a month later, long after the tattoo was healed.

And of all the ways that he could’ve found out, after all Dean had done to make sure that Sam stayed ignorant of the little reminder on his arm, he found out because Dean had accidentally pushed his sleeve up to far. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice caught Dean’s attention easily. After decades of working together, he caught on to Sam’s slightly panicky voice quickly.

Dean turned around, looking immediately for any threats, protectiveness surging.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“Dean… What’s that on your arm?” Sam was clearly not trying to be visibly panicked, but Dean could always read his brother like a goddamn open book.

He jerked his head to look down at his arm, and surely enough, a peek of the tattoo was showing. 

“Nothing, Sam, don’t worry about it,” Dean said, pushing his sleeve back down and turning back to work on dinner for that night. He knew it wouldn’t work, though. He knew exactly what Sam was thinking right now.

There was something on his arm, right where the Mark of Cain had rested, and it looked  _ a lot  _ like the Mark of Cain.

So Dean wasn’t surprised when Sam came and roughly shoved him around, grabbing his right arm and pulling the sleeves up so fast that some of the threads broke.

Dean closed his eyes, knowing he was too much of a coward to see the emotions flitting across his little brother’s face.

“Dean what the actual _ fuck _ is  _ this _ ?” Worry, anger, fear, and some other emotions were clearly heard in Sam’s tight voice. 

“It’s a tattoo, Sam, don’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to get it twice,” Dean said, slowly opening his eyes and looking at his arm.

A perfect replica of the Mark of Cain rested on his arm.

“Dean…” Sam whispered. The sadness in his voice prompted Dean to finally steel himself and look at his little brother.

His eyes were trained on the tattoo. As Dean watched, he saw Sam’s shoulders slump, and his eyes close, trying to regain his composure.

“Why?” Sam’s voice cracked on that one tiny word, emotion that was tightly held threatening to break free, forcing Dean to look away.

He briefly thought about lying, but he knew he couldn’t come up with a good excuse, and something in him reared in disgust about lying to Sam about this.

“I needed a reminder.”

Sam’s head snapped up and quickly found Dean’s eyes. “For  _ what _ ?” His voice was hoarse with disbelief and horror. “What on earth could you possibly need a reminder of this for?” While Sam was speaking, he lifted Dean’s arm, still tightly held in Sam’s grasp, the tattoo clearly on display.

Dean swallowed. “Of what I’m capable of.”

They both heard the words that he didn’t say.

_ I’m a monster.  _

Sam let Dean’s arm go, watching it fall back to Dean’s side. “No, Dean. Jesus,  _ no _ .” He shook his head, seemingly unable to believe the words Dean said.

But proof of Dean’s own belief in those words lay on Dean’s right arm, black and very much immovable.

It seemed to hit Sam that this was a permanent tattoo. The damage was done and it couldn’t be removed. 

“ _ Jesus _ , Dean,” Sam said, eyes closing. 

His little brother’s hands were shaking, Dean noticed, almost detachedly. 

Before he knew what was happening, Sam had breached the gap between them and pulled Dean in for a hug, huge arms wrapping around Dean completely.

Dean just stood there, not participating in the hug at all.

“You’re not, you know.” Dean didn’t respond to Sam’s words, silently disagreeing. “You’re not a monster.”

And that was all Dean could take. He gently removed himself from Sam’s hold, gave him a ghost smirk and walked away.

After that, Sam didn’t breach the topic of it again

They never mentioned the tattoo again. Dean still got nauseated whenever he looked at it. Sam’s sad eyes still followed his arm. It was a stark reminder of what they’d done and the consequences of their actions. Unmentioned, but never forgotten, and etched into Dean’s skin. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *cackles evilly*
> 
> i've had this idea for a while but i only just got around to actually sitting down and writing it. and look at me go! going back to my angsty, hurt-no-comfort writing style. anyways i feel like this is definitely something that dean would do i feel cheated that he didn't do this ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> title is lyrics from natural by imagine dragons. go listen to it, its amazing


End file.
